Have Confidence - Request
by TerinAngel
Summary: Templars have influence. Mages have information. Woe be to the foe that manages to convince them to work together towards a single goal.


Orsino had seen much in his time as First Enchanter, and very precious little of it good. Being the youngest First Enchanter on record meant only that he was an advocate – not that his voice was heart. So he could only hope that the Maker understood his rather blatant skepticism of the current situation.

"You ask a great deal of me and mine, Ser Meredith." To her credit, the Templar in question didn't even twitch. That did not, whoever, mean that Orsino was impressed. "I will concede that your observations of the current situation are… accurate." He forced down the wave of helpless fury. He could hardly fix the shortages, the restrictions, the _abuse_, if he were in a cell. Or worse. "But to that end, I must point out that I am in no position to help you, especially with only a 'perhaps' at the end of it all. Much as I dislike how things are now, the Mages of the Gallows cannot afford to lose more ground."

The thrice-Blighted woman had the audacity to roll her eyes and _sniff_ at him, as though she were a noble in Hightown mocking the price of some bauble. Oh how he wished to beat her over the head with his staff. But no, assault on a Templar was the last thing he needed to deal with right now. Even if said Templar was insane – or foolish – enough to storm his office and demand his assistance in usurping the current Knight Captain.

"I would say you can afford to ignore my offer even less, _First Enchanter._" The sneer in her voice when she used his title made his fingers twitch. "The Gallows is falling apart, and it's not simply your Mages that suffer. Though as they are your primary concern, I will forgive you for failing to note the true scale of the situation." The blonde Templar began to pace restlessly, and Orsino was reminded of a large predatory cat he had once read about – tigers, if he remembered correctly. Ser Meredith paced and prowled as he imagined one would – all coiled strength and vaguely leashed temper hidden beneath lethal grace and deceptive beauty.

"The Mages suffer afflictions of neglect and abuse – statistically, you and yours are not being allowed enough of anything, be it rations or time. This is unacceptable. Training, Harrowings, studies – all must be completed, and your current allotment barely covers a fraction of what is _necessary_ for the Circle to function." She whipped around, snarling – a predator trapped. "Templars, on the other hand, are falling to our own vices – sloth, and greed, and gluttony. We get lazy, and lapse in our duties. We cut your ability to function, add it to our own, and all appears even once more. And then we become more lax, and everything repeats, on and on!" Meredith stopped abruptly, slamming her fist on his desk, sending several sheaves of paper to the floor with the force of the blow. "This is a vicious cycle for us both, First Enchanter! It _must_ end!"

"And yet you continue to say nothing which I did not already know," Orsino snapped, finally giving in and biting back. "What exactly would you have me do, Ser Meredith? The only authority capable of reprimanding and replacing your Knight Captain are the Knight Commander and the Grand Cleric, and I'll assume that you know that I am in no position to petition either!" He saw here eyes flash, her jaw set and clench. And then, he understood. His glare remained set, but inside he was cackling. Apparently even a Templar such as Meredith could fall to a personal sin. Now, if only she could swallow her considerable pride… then Orsino might be impressed.

"It is possible," Meredith finally hissed, every word sounding as thought it was being dragged out of her, "that a petition from a well-though-of member of the Order might carry enough weight to have he desired result." Her lips pressed into a thin line, and Orsino simply crossed his arms, silent. "The accusations within such a petition however would need to be rather… extraordinary. Something that I do not have. But _you do._" Meredith stood straight, arms crossing in mirror of Orsino. "This is my proposition, First Enchanter. Provide me with evidence sufficient to condone the Knight Captain, and I shall petition for his removal in your stead." Orsino stood and rounded his desk to stand before her.

"And how do I know you speak truth, Templar?"

"You do not, Mage."

Tense silence reigned for several moments before Orsino nodded sharply. "Very well. You will have your evidence, Ser Meredith. You may return at the end of the week to collect it." He then marched over to his office door, opening it and giving a rather pointed "after you" flourish. He almost smirked at Meredith's dumbstruck expression. Whether from his agreement, the time line, or his gall for all but kicking her out, it didn't really matter. The expression was priceless.

She paused half way out the door, aiming a suspicious sideways glare at him. "You seem rather certain." Orsino snorted beyond amused.

"You come asking for my help, and once you have it, _then_ you question whether I can deliver?" He gave her a light push to encourage her the rest of the way out. "Have confidence, Ser Meredith." And then he closed the door in her face, finally allowing his amusement to surface as her affronted exclamations filtered through his door. This, Orsino decided, could be interesting.

If Meredith managed to pull it off, she would be the first Templar to manage to impress him.


End file.
